A Scandal and The Woman
by GagaMidnight
Summary: My version of a Scandal In Belgravia. It starts off similar then goes completely different: Sherlock Holmes escapes Moriarty and the pool but what happens to his heart when he meets American Novelist Irene Adler, a damsel in distress who is brave, courageous and beautiful? Can Holmes realise in time that she is not the bad woman she has been made out to be?
1. The Illustrious Client

A/N I have decided to do my own version of A Scandal In Belgravia. Mainly because I found some of what happened in the original episode to be quite sexist and diminishing of Irene's character that I appreciated from Conan Doyle's original story A Scandal In Bohemia.

* * *

Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective began to regain his logical thinking and his usual pulse as he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd just met face to face with James Moriarty, his new adversary. Moriarty had lured Sherlock to a swimming pool. The swimming pool was where Sherlock's first case started and it was where Sherlock thought it would be his last.

When Sherlock had post on his website for Moriarty to meet him there at midnight Sherlock had thought he would be luring Moriarty there with the promise of top secret missile plans, that Sherlock's brother Mycroft Holmes had tried to have him find. Sherlock thought that Moriarty had, made up puzzles for him to 'dance' so that it would keep Sherlock from investigating his brother's case.

But when Sherlock got to the pool, he came face to face with Dr John Watson. His best friend. His only true friend. Sherlock never felt the human emotions of others or understood them fully or so he told himself but to think for one moment that John could have betrayed him all this time, that John was in fact Moriarty made him feel hurt. But he was relieved when John revealed himself to be strapped with a bomb. Then Sherlock panicked slightly but he forced himself not to show it.

Then Moriarty appeared and revealed himself to be a man whom Sherlock had met before. He was at Saint Barts' Hospital in the laboratory and Molly Hooper the pathologist in the hospital introduced him to be her new boyfriend Jim from the IT department. Sherlock being the way he was, so open and rude and quite clueless to good moral values, and thought he was helping Molly by telling her Jim was gay.

After speaking to Sherlock and John, Moriarty left and Sherlock removed the bomb from John before sliding it away. But Moriarty came back.

"Sorry boys I'm so changeable!" he announced.

Sherlock began to think about what was going to happen next as Moriarty continued to speak.

"It is a weakness of me. But to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."

Sherlock turned around and pointed the gun he'd brought at Moriarty. "Probably my answer has crossed yours."

Moriarty wore a sadistic smile as Sherlock lowered the gun down so that when he fired it would set the bomb off. Unexpectedly Staying Alive, a song by the Bee Gees began to play. Sherlock looked around confused for a moment, and Moriarty sighed and was somewhat embarrassed. "Do you mind if I get that?"

"Oh no, please. You've got the rest of your life."

"Hello." spoke Moriarty answering it.

Sherlock tried to listen and see who was on the phone to him but he just couldn't tell. "Sorry." mouthed Moriarty to Sherlock.

John was the only one staring on thinking the situation was completely unnatural. "Excuse me?" they heard Moriarty question. "You had an order! Find her and that email now!"

Moriarty looked on to Sherlock and John, holding the phone in his hands. "Sorry, wrong day to die." he sang.

"Did Jim'll fix it get a problem?" asked Sherlock.

"You'll be hearing from me Sherlock."

When Moriarty left John spoke up. "What happened there?"

"Something happened to make him change his mind. Question is what?"

* * *

"She went this way! Go!" shouted one of Moriarty's men. The woman they were after hid in a tunnel under the bridge where the men were standing on. When they had gone she walked away thinking that the last of her worries were over. Unfortunately for her they were only just beginning.

* * *

Sherlock began to turn his morning newspaper as he tried to find something interesting. John was typing away on his laptop and it somewhat perturbed him. "What are you doing?"

"I am typing up my latest blog entry." replied John.

"Just what would that be?"

"It's about us."

"You mean me."

"Why?" asked John.

"You're typing a lot. Doesn't that explain?"

John just looked at him. The doorbell rang. "Finally. Let's see what we've got." spoke Sherlock.

Sherlock went to see his first client and business for him went on as usual. They'd come. He'd either decline them or solve their mysterious. John would blog about them, and annoy Sherlock because there was one that he'd not solved, and he didn't want anyone to know that he could not solve it. In all honesty he was getting bored. Very bored, as though something was missing from the cases and he ended up finding boredom in every case that came to him, until the fifteenth of September.

Sherlock was in the middle of looking at a crime scene through video conferencing with John when the doorbell rang.

"Shut up!" he shouted to it.

He turned back to talk to John on the webcam as he argued with a detective about the case. Eventually two men in pressed suits came upstairs and turned off the video feed. They put Sherlock's clothes on the desk in front of him and Sherlock took one look at them before turning away. He was in nothing but a bed sheet.

"Please Mr Holmes where you're going you'll want to be dressed."

He turned around and looked at the man who spoke before looking to the other one. He smirked and turned to the man. "I know exactly where I'm going."

* * *

John had no idea why but he was being taken into Buckingham Palace on a helicopter. When he got inside he found Sherlock and glanced at him before sitting next to him. He looked around for a moment, as silence filled the entire room. Then he spoke. "Are you wearing any pants?"

"No." replied Sherlock.

There was a long awkward silence before the two of them burst into laughter.

"Buckingham Palace. Right. I'm am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." laughed John. "What are we doing here. Sherlock seriously, what?"

"I don't know." replied Sherlock.

"Here to see the queen?"

Suddenly a familiar face stepped into the room. "Oh apparently yes." quipped Sherlock. It was Mycroft his brother. John and Sherlock once more burst into laughter.

"Just once can you two behave like grown ups?"

"We solve crimes I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope." replied John.

"I was in the middle of a case Mycroft." spoke Sherlock.

"What the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious surely."

"Transparent." replied Sherlock.

"Time to move on then." replied Mycroft picking up Sherlock's clothes which were on the table.

Sherlock looked at Mycroft holding his clothes and drew him a look. "We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes put your trousers on!"

"What for?" asked Sherlock.

"Your client." replied Mycroft.

"And my client is..." began Sherlock.

"Illustrious in the extreme." spoke a man, walking into the room. John stood up, as he realised the man was of importance. "And remaining, I have to inform you entirely anonymous."

"Mycroft." the man smiled upon seeing the eldest Holmes brother.

"Harry." smiled Mycroft shaking the man's hand. "May I just apologise for the state of my little brother."

"Full time occupation I imagine." commented Harry before turning to John. "And this must be Dr John Watson. Formerly of the fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Hello yes." replied John shaking his hand.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog."

"Your employer?" asked John.

"Particularly enjoyed the one about the Aluminium Crutch."

"Thank You." replied John before turning to Sherlock and drawing him a look which said "I told you so." It felt good for John to rub that in after all the times Sherlock had slighted his blog.

"And Mr Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs."

"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend." he replied standing up.

"Mycroft I don't do anonymous clients, I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases, two ends is too much work. Good morning." he told his brother before walking away.

Mycroft stood on Sherlock's sheet. "This is a matter of national importance grow up!"

"Get off my sheet!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll just walk away."

"I'll let you." replied Mycroft.

"Boys please not here." spoke John.

"Who is my client?" asked Sherlock.

"Take a look at where you are standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God sakes..." His voice began to get quiet slightly. "Put your clothes on!"

* * *

Sherlock had finally decided to put his clothes on. He now sat while Mycroft poured tea. "I'll be mother." commented Mycroft.

"Now there is a childhood in a nutshell."

"My employer has a problem." began Harry.

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature. And in this hour of need dear brother your name has arisen."

"Why? You have a police force of sorts. Even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?" asked Sherlock.

"People do come to you for help, don't they Mr. Holmes?" asked Harry.

"Hm. Not to date anyone with a navy."

"This is a matter of the highest security and therefore of trust." spoke Mycroft.

"You don't trust your own Secret Service?" asked John.

"Naturally not. They all spy on people for money."

"What do you know about this woman?" asked Mycroft before handing Sherlock a photograph.

"Nothing whatsoever." replied Sherlock looking at the photo.

"I think I've seen her." spoke up John.

"She's very popular in America as novelist. In particular an author who enjoys writing about detectives and how they solve crime. I've never read them myself but they were said by some to be quite complex."

"Complex?" asked Sherlock.

"They went into the fine detail." replied Mycroft.

"Who is she?" asked Sherlock.

"Irene Adler. As a pen name she is called The Woman. Including on her social networking sites."

"A pen name?" questioned Sherlock.

"Some authors have them." replied John.

"I am afraid even I don't understand how an author could be of interest to you." spoke Sherlock.

"Miss Adler is not just an author. She's an author who has potentially incriminating photos. How she gained these photos we do not know." spoke Harry.

"Who is in the photos?" asked Sherlock.

"A CIA agent, Godfrey Norton and a young female person. This female person is a concern to your client."

"I assume this Norton man, and this young female person appear together in these photos and that some of them are even incriminating?"

"Yes." replied Mycroft.

"How many photos are there?"

"A considerable amount apparently."

"Can you help us Mr Holmes?" asked Harry.

"How?"

"Will you take the case?"

"What case? Pay her now and in full."

"She doesn't want money." spoke Mycroft. "She was the one who got in touch, she informed us of the photographs."

"A powerplay. A powerplay with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is rather courageous for a male novelist never mind a female one. Oh this is getting rather fun."

"Sherlock." scolded John.

"Where is she?" asked Sherlock.

"She's staying here in London. She's currently staying..." began Mycroft.

"Text me the details. I'll be in touch by the end of the day."

"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" asked Harry following Sherlock as he got up to leave.

"No I think I'll have the photographs."

"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think."

Sherlock drew him a look before analysing him. "I'll need some equipment of course." he spoke.

"Anything that you require I'll have it sent..." began Mycroft

"A box of matches." spoke Sherlock before turning to Harry. "Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do."

"I don't smoke."

"Oh I know you don't but your employer does."

"We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact Mr Holmes."

I am not the commonwealth." he replied.

"And that's about as modest as he gets." spoke John.

"Laterz" spoke Sherlock on the way out.

* * *

Irene stood up and made her way to her wardrobe as she looked for something to wear. In his attempt to get Irene on his side, Moriarty had let it slip that she was going to be visited by Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. She walked into her wardrobe and began to look at her clothes.

"_Sherlock Holmes. A far more capable detective that the ones I have written. I should love to meet you." _

TBC


	2. Vatican Cameos

Irene opened the door and saw Sherlock before her. She saw he'd been punched in the face. "I...I have been attacked..." began Sherlock. She looked at him and saw he was wearing a white collar, suggesting his disguise was a vicar. She smiled. "Mr Holmes come upstairs and I'll have a look." she spoke. Sherlock blinked, at her immediately knowing who he was but followed her anyway.

"Ow." he winced a while later.

"Did someone call a doctor?" spoke John suddenly walking in. He saw Irene carefully tending to the wound on Sherlock's cheek. "One should be careful on those cheekbones, they could easily cut themselves. I am very glad that Dr Watson here missed your nose and your teeth."

"I am sorry did I miss something? How do you know my name?" asked John bemused.

Irene walked over to the chair. "Do you know the big problem with a disguise Mr Holmes?" she asked.

Sherlock stared at her and she stared back. The both of them completely forgot that John was in the room with them. "What is that then?"

"No matter how hard you try it is always a self portrait."

"You think I'm a Vicar with a bleeding face?"

"No, I think you're damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case it's yourself."

Her words were straight forward yet true. He looked at her, unable to tell anything at all about her. There was nothing to suggest what hand she wrote with, when she last slept, if she owned any pets, what she'd last ate, anything. He questioned himself for a moment before looking to John. He deduced everything he could about him before turning back to Irene Adler.

"I just came from the palace."stated Sherlock.

"Yes I know." replied Irene.

Sherlock stared at her again and saw she was looking at him questioningly. Almost as if she was trying to deduce him. "I am a great fan of your friend's blog."

"You seem to be a fan of crime." deduced Sherlock.

"Not crime. Detective stories. Detectives too. I love how they analyse and question everything. They think. People should do that more often. But then again if more had the capacity to do so you'd be out of a job as consulting detective and my stories would not be unique."

"I wouldn't have to explain anything." replied Sherlock.

"True. But wouldn't you lose your moments of glory where you believe that you are far better than yourself? I've heard all about you. Being an author you speak to many people. Parties, clubs, meetings and perhaps I've even met a few people that you have. I have kept the newspapers you appeared in. I saw that funny hat of yours. You looked like a little boy in it."

"Well I saw photographs of you too."

"What?" she asked.

"Signing books." he replied.

Irene laughed. "Oh really Mr Holmes do not try to level with me."

"I was at the palace too." spoke John.

Irene suddenly crossed one leg over the other. Sherlock noticed she was rather slim. He didn't understand why he was paying attention to her. But something about her was capturing his every attention and thought suddenly. Even her looks. Something that he never thought of people on. _"She has a face that a man might die for." _

Irene stood up suddenly and walked to the window. "Tell me how long have they known where I was staying?" she asked Sherlock.

"I imagine since the moment you came here."

"Oh dear. I thank you for taking your time to come and chat, Mr Holmes. But I really must be packing. I never stay in the one place long."

"John." spoke Sherlock.

"Right." replied John before leaving the room and closing the door.

"Mr Holmes you do not understand?" replied Irene.

"Oh but I do. You know why I am here."

"You're looking for the photos." replied Irene.

"Looking takes too long, I am going to find them. But we've got a few moments and you're moderately clever." spoke Sherlock. He was going to test how clever she was. He had to know. He didn't know why but he had to. "I had a case this morning. A hiker with a bashed in head."

"Oh the hiker the car and the backfire. I hacked into the police database and read the report."

Sherlock looked away to hide his smile. _"She's resourceful."_

"I am good with computers. In fact I am good at a lot of things."

Sherlock began to take Irene through the case. "Two men, a car, and nobody else. Driver's trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere. And the hiker is taking a moment, looking at the sky. Watching the birds? Any moment now, something is going to happen. What?"

"The hiker is going to die."

"No that's the result. What's going to happen?"

"I don't understand."

"Oh well try to." replied Sherlock.

"Why?"

"Because you write about it. You think. Now think now. As you said in your interview with The New York Times. Brainy is the new sexy. Now stop boring me and think."

"Well step by step then?"

"If you will." replied Sherlock.

"The car is going to backfire. There's going to be a loud noise and..."

"Noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance."

The fire alarm suddenly went off.

Irene looked to the mirror on her fireplace.

"Thank you." smiled Sherlock. "On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities."

He walked over to the mirror and found a button to slide it up. He used it and found a safe. "Really hope you don't have a baby in here." he remarked.

"Mr Holmes do not open that safe. Please do not open that safe." pleaded Irene.

Sherlock ignored her. "You can turn it off now!" he shouted to John.

"Give me a minute!" shouted John.

"You should always use gloves with these things." commented Sherlock as he looked at the keys. "Heaviest oil deposit is always on the first key used. That's a three. After that the sequence is impossible to read. I can see a six digit code."

Irene sat down. "I'll tell you the code right now. But then again work it out." she replied before crossing her leg over her other. "Think, it's the height of the game."

They were suddenly aware that the fire alarm went off. "Please be noted that whatever is in that safe you've been warned about." continued Irene.

"A few photos do not scare me." he replied.

John suddenly came into the room with a man who had a gun to his head. Three men followed him. "Miss Adler on the floor!"

"Oh but I'm wearing my dress and I think it'll ride up if I go on the floor." replied Irene.

"Miss Adler on the floor!" repeated the man.

"Sorry Sherlock." apologised John.

"Dr Watson and Miss Adler hands behind your head on the floor now!" repeated the man for a second time.

John did as he was told and so was Irene. She suddenly felt a gun at her head.

"Do you want me on the floor as well?" asked Sherlock.

"No Mr Holmes I want you to open the safe."

"You're American. Interesting. Why would you care? Is this about Norton?"

Irene swallowed. Sherlock noted it.

"The safe Mr Holmes, please."

"I don't know the code." replied Sherlock.

"We've been listening she said she told you."

"If you've been listening, you'll know she didn't."

"I assume that I missed something but from your reputation I assume that you didn't."

"She's the one who knows the code ask her!" spoke John.

"Yes sir, she also knows the code that calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I've learned not to trust her."

"But Mr Holmes does not know the code..." began Irene in a pleading tone that was so innocent, and perhaps a little frightened. Sherlock swallowed at it.

"Shut up!" replied the American. Sherlock's eyes widened. "One more word out of you, just one more and I'll decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That for me will not be hardship."

Irene was about to speak and Sherlock shook his head. He suddenly feared for her life.

There was silence then he spoke again. "Mr Archer on the count of three shoot Dr Watson!"

"Wait a minute that is against the law. You've no right to be even asserting your authority here in Britain. Never mind murder an innocent army doctor who patched up Americans and British alike!" commented Irene. "Sherlock Holmes does not know the code I was playing a mind game with him."

"I warned you..." began the American agent.

"I don't know the code." pleaded Sherlock getting the American's attention back.

"One." the American began to count as Archer pulled John up.

"She did not tell me the code."

"Two."

"I don't know the code."

"I am prepared to believe you any second now...Three."

"No stop!" spoke Sherlock suddenly realising.

"Thank you Mr Holmes, open the safe please."

He looked at Irene and she looked down with her eyes. A couple of times. He turned to the safe and inputted the code in. Then he realised. "Vatican Cameos!"

John ducked as Sherlock did and a bullet came from the safe hitting Archer. It didn't kill him however. Sherlock moved back up and took out the man standing next to him before taking his gun. Irene did the same with the man behind her and knocked him out. John sorted the man in charge, and Irene pointed the gun at Archer who was holding onto his shoulder in pain.

"Good job it was a rubber bullet." she said.

"Why did you warn me?" wondered Sherlock aloid.

"Because it was not meant for you." she replied simply before walking over to Archer and hitting him over the head with the gun she had in her hand.

"Shouldn't someone get the police?" asked John.

"Yes." replied Sherlock before walking downstairs and outside. He fired the gun a few times and then walked back inside. Irene was at the safe looking for her phone. But she realised Sherlock had it when he flipped it while coming into the room. "Well that's the knighthood in the bag."

"Mr Holmes that is mine." she told him.

"I imagine the photos are on here."

"I have copies."

"No you don't." he replied. "You've disabled any kind of uplink or connection. Unless the contents of this phone were not unique you couldn't sell them."

"I am not selling Mr Holmes." she replied.

"Well why would they be interested?" asked Sherlock.

"It's rather a long story and one that I regret living. I've paid the price because I was naive. Now if you could give me back that phone. It's my life and I would die before I let you take it. It's how I am protecting myself."

"It was." replied Sherlock before going downstairs.

"Just checking the back door." shouted John.

"This your room?" asked Sherlock. "Oh you were planning on leaving soon you've packed a bag and you've a trouser suit out. Was the dress to impress me then?"

"Do not flatter yourself Mr Holmes." replied Irene.

Irene grabbed Sherlock's hand suddenly and began to press on a pressure point in his finger. "It's an old CIA technique."

Sherlock's vision began to get blurry and he collapsed on the floor before losing consciousness.

"What have you done?" asked John suddenly walking in and find her wearing Sherlock's coat over her dress.

"It was nice meeting you and him Dr Watson. You have a lot to put up with. I'll be reading your blog." she replied before somersaulting out of the window.

* * *

Sherlock woke up suddenly and realised he was in his bed. "Miss Adler?" he asked. He was sure he'd heard her speak to him.

"_I just brought back your coat and your phone. I've left something on it for you."_

"It could have been a dream. But why would I dream of her?" asked Sherlock aloud. "John! John!"

"Sherlock are you OK?" asked John, coming into the room.

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"The Woman!"

"What woman?"

"The woman, woman." he replied.

"Oh Irene Adler. She ran away"

Sherlock began to look around.

"She nicked your coat by the way." spoke John. "She's not here either."

Sherlocked began to look around. Then he realised his finger was marked slightly. "She's lethal." he said aloud.

"Look Sherlock back to bed you can worry in the morning. Mycroft said he was popping round." spoke John lifting Sherlock onto the bed. John left and Sherlock and was actually going to do what John said when suddenly he heard. "Hey sexy you've got a message."

Sherlock got up and saw his coat. He walked over to it and found his phone inside. He found a new message. _"Are you OK? You should put some ice on the finger. I am sorry I had to do that. Will you look in your voice memos?"_

Sherlock did look in his voice memos. There was a sound file left by her. He began to listen to it. "I've got it now Mr Holmes. Let's go to the car. It's about to backfire, and the hiker he's staring at the sky. You said he could be watching the birds but he wasn't was he? He was watching another kind of flying thing. The car backfires and the hiker turns to look. Which was his big mistake. The driver turns to look and the hiker is already dead. He doesn't see what killed him because it's already being washed away down stream. An accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel with a boomerang."

Sherlock smiled. "You are moderately clever Miss Adler." he said aloud.

"Hey sexy you've got a message."

Sherlock looked at his latest text message. "**Well? How did I do?"**

He never replied but went back to bed and fell asleep.

TBC


	3. The Woman And The Sleeping Tablets

Sherlock woke up feeling much better than he did when he woke up late at night. He couldn't help but stare at the bruise on his finger. Not because of any vanity or any feeling of pain. Sherlock Holmes did not care about his looks and nor did he allow himself to be rendered helpless by any emotion. He would not allow anything to stop his logical thinking. But the previous day somehow did not go well with everything that he stood for. He observed but could not deduce. When he couldn't deduce anything he stared at her eyes. There was something about them that would not allow him to look away. He forgot about John, and in the room was only him and her. The points she made to him were valid, and in the end he let his guard down for one moment as he revelled in the glory of winning in a mind battle with what would be in his eyes a worthy opponent. But what bothered him the most was that he noticed how beautiful she was. He never knew or understood what made someone deserve such an adjective. Upon seeing her however he knew that she was the one person on the world who definitely deserved it. The complementer who so freely gave away that word had no true idea of the meaning, in Sherlock's eyes.

Yet, beautiful was not a word to describe Irene Adler. It gave her no justice and no reliable description. Sherlock had his own. Irene Adler had a face that a man might die for.

* * *

John was not long awake when Mycroft sent one of his people to collect him and sherlock. With a sigh John answered the door. The poor army doctor had not even had his breakfast yet. However he also knew that he'd no choice but to go. Someone had to keep Sherlock in check.

When Sherlock and John entered Mycroft's office Mycroft looked up. Sherlock was not even bothering to hide his annoyance at being summoned two days in a row, by his brother.

"Mycroft you better have a good reason for bringing me up here."

Mycroft gestured to John and Sherlock to sit down. "Indeed I do have a good for bringing you here. You told us you'd have the photographs. Where are they? Did they suddenly just evaporate?"

"They didn't evaporate. They were on a camera phone that she bullied your brother into giving her back." interjected John. John made no attempt at hiding the amusement he had in his voice, at Sherlock's situation with Irene Adler.

"Yes thank you for your input John." Sherlock said sarcastically.

Mycroft noticed the bruise on his brother's finger. "Don't tell me you let her do that to you? Did she catch you unawares?"

"Miss Adler had no intention of allowing me to leave with that camera phone. That camera phone is her life. Her protection and by the looks of it she will not give up her life without a fight. We can't fault her for that."

"All is fair in love and war." remarked John.

"Love and war?" questioned Sherlock.

"**Hey sexy you've got a message." **came from Sherlock's phone.

Both Mycroft and John's eye widened. Sherlock stood unaffected by the recent noise which had just come from his phone.

"Where is miss Adler now?" asked the consulting detective.

"I advise you to avoid her Sherlock. She is very dangerous..." began Mycroft.

"Hmm. So I've gathered." commented Sherlock, his tone sarcastic.

"**Hey sexy you've got a message." **

John and Mycroft once again widened their eyes. Mycroft sighed and shook his head. "Miss Adler killed a CIA agent, stole vital information from his partner Agent Norton, and also incriminating photos, not to mention it was only yesterday that she set up a lethal trap in her safe."

Sherlock scoffed. "I hardly call the trap lethal. It was a rubber bullet Mycroft. It only his arm."

Mycroft gritted his teeth. "It might not have."

John turned to Mycroft. "So that's why the Americans are after her. She stole information from norton?"

"Yes."

"I see." nodded Sherlock.

There was silence for a moment and then Sherlock began to laugh. "I am sure as an author she was very capable to do all that." mocked Sherlock.

Mycroft stood up and walked to his brother. "This is not a game Sherlock. This is a woman who could bring our country to its knees."

The detective was not bothered. "Really? Fun."

"**Hey sexy you've got a message."**

This time Sherlock fell into curiosity and he removed his mobile from his pocket while Mycroft walked over to the window to look outside. **"I like reading. Do you? If you do I advise you look in the Tree of Knowledge."**

He thought for a moment before turning his head to look at Mycroft. "What has she got? Specifically that is interesting you." he asked. Mycroft continued to stare out of the window without asking.

John leaned over to Sherlock and tried to read his text message but Sherlock put his phone away. "Didn't your mother teach you that reading people's messages was wrong?" asked Sherlock.

"Didn't yours?" asked John.

Sherlock turned to John as though it was a simple answer. "I'm a detective."

Mycroft coughed. "I hate to interrupt..." he began.

Sherlock smiled. "Of course. You're going to tell me what Miss Adler has on her camera phone."

Mycroft began to pace from one side of the room to the next as he replied. "Anything and everything. Godfrey Norton gained information about terrorists and he was meant to give it to his partner but he was dead and we believe Miss Adler killed him, then took the information that Norton had gathered."

"We believe?" questioned Sherlock. "Who is we?"

"Me. The CIA."

"Not a definite she did it however." deduced Sherlock.

"We have no proof of course but who else could have done it?"

Sherlock thought for a moment and then spoke again. "Where is she?"

Mycroft sighed. "We've no idea. She disappeared."

John laughed. "I thought you would have had your best people surveilling her."

"We did." replied Mycroft.

"Clearly." mocked Sherlock with a snicker. "Perhaps I can find her."

Mycroft made sure that was he said in reply was in a finalising tone. "She is no longer of any interest to you."

"That's my decision." replied Sherlock in the same tone.

"Don't make me order you!"

Sherlock looked at him with loathing. "Fine." he replied with a sigh.

Mycroft nodded. "Good."

"Come on John, I can't bare to spend another moment in his company."

When they left and were outside John spoke to Sherlock. "What? You're just going to give up?"

"Oh no I said that so he'd leave me alone. I am not giving up on Miss Adler. I mean this case...You know what I mean."

"I know exactly what you mean." replied John.

* * *

It was near Lunchtime and John was following Sherlock. "Where exactly are we going?"

Sherlock stopped walking. "We? I didn't say you had to come."

"But, aren't we doing something about Irene Adler?"

"I am you are not."

"Why?" asked John.

"Because I failed therefore I must fix it."

"Oh so it is a pride thing." nodded John.

Sherlock suddenly stopped outside a bookshop. "Wait here." he ordered John.

When Sherlock went inside, John looked at the sign above. **"The Tree Of Knowledge." **

John shook his head and waited. The next moment Sherlock came out with a book. "What's that?" asked John.

"I believe it's a book."

"Yes but what is the book?"

"Fiction."

"Yes but..." began John.

"Taxi!" Sherlock called out.

When they got in the taxi Sherlock's ringtone went off. John looked at Sherlock before smiling wryly as he tried to comprehend Sherlock's new ringtone. "Why does your phone make that noise?"

"Hmm?" replied Sherlock as he looked at his recent text message. **"Good luck keeping up with the plot. I do try and get my readers to solve the cases by the detail too. Unfortunately it is not going to work out like that. No one notices the things that add up." **

Sherlock never replied to the message and put his phone back in his pocket. "Sherlock you never answered me." stated John.

"Sorry John what were you saying?" asked Sherlock.

John shook his head and was about to speak again when once again Sherlock's ringtone went off. Sherlock picked his phone out of his pocket. **"Oh and I'd look at the bookmark if I were you."**

Sherlock opened up the middle of the book to find a bookmark." He put the book aside as he examined the puzzle on the back of the bookmark. He smiled. "Oh Miss Adler you're making me dance."

"What?" asked John.

Sherlock was suddenly aware of speaking aloud. "Nothing." Sherlock replied.

"**Shall I give you a clue?" she texted him next. **

John looked at Sherlock as his alert went off again. "Why does your phone do that?"

"Do what?"

"That ringtone."

"Oh someone got a hold of my phone and as a joke changed it."

"Right. But your phone was in your coat..." spoke John.

"Hmm." interrupted Sherlock as he began to read Irene's book.

"The Detective and the Ice Bullet. Interesting." spoke John. "May I read it after you?"

"No you may not." replied Sherlock.

"It's Irene Adler's book."

"And?"

"Why are you reading her book?"

"Because..." droned Sherlock.

"Because what?"

"Well because."

* * *

Irene made her way into the late open cafe. It was half past eleven at night and she was tired but she kept on going. She'd not been sleeping well. "Two cups of tea please." Irene ordered. When they came she put sleeping tablets in the tea at her side of the table. It was not long after that she heard the door open, and the she felt the presence of someone standing behind her. A very tall person.

"Mr Holmes, I've ordered tea." spoke Irene.

"Thank you." spoke Sherlock swapping the tea cups over.

She smiled at him. He'd fallen into her trap. "Why am I here?" Sherlock questioned.

"Because I wanted to see if I knew how you thought. I think my hypothesis was correct. May I compliment you on your dancing?"

"My friend John has done it in every single possible way with every single superlative known to mankind that not even you as an author could beat."

"Mr Holmes you have wonderful and enviable pale blue eyes that analyse what they see within a mere matter of a mere split second and it turns what could be the most simplest, uninteresting, irrelevant thing in the entire world into the most important clue of a puzzle. With your great logical thinking you make cold deductions that are so true and straight forward and honest. But because of the brutality of your honesty, one can not help but feel angry that you leave them so naked with one single glance. You leave people so vulnerable yet yourself are the most vulnerable man I've ever met."

"Interesting." smiled Sherlock. "The tea here tastes horrible."

"Let's find somewhere else." spoke Irene. "Come."

Irene went to pay for the tea but Sherlock took over and paid for it himself. "Thank you Mr Holmes." smiled Irene.

"You're bank has been frozen I imagine."

"You know your brother well." replied Irene as they walked out of the cafe.

"Yes I do. Where are we going?"

"To have tea at your home of course." replied Irene.

"Hmm." nodded Sherlock.

"I suppose you're wondering about the camera phone."

"What camera phone?" Sherlock asked in return.

She lifted Sherlock's hand. "The camera phone that I bruised you for. I did tell you to put ice on it you silly man."

"It was the middle of the night."

She let go of his hand. "Ah. All the more reason not to go downstairs. Are you scared of the dark Mr Holmes?"

"I felt terrible."

"Yes it's not my fault you do not eat. It should only have worked for an hour at the most. That's why I was worried."

"You were worried?" Sherlock asked quickly.

"Well...umm...Well. I could have killed you."

"I am OK. I deserved it."

"Why?"

"I let my guard down."

"Mr Holmes I want to make it clear that my vendetta has nothing to do with you. You are the last person that I wanted to get hurt. Meeting you was an honour though."

They were outside Baker Street. "I feel rather umm..."

"Yeah you will." spoke Irene waving her sleeping tablets at him. "I am sorry. But it's time for us to part ways."

"No..." began Sherlock. "But...we've got to talk about...talk about."

Irene caught him as he passed out. She pulled him to the door and opened it before dragging him inside. John came downstairs, holding Irene's book. "Sherlock?"

"He's just...tired." replied Irene. "Don't let him to do too much work."

"Oh look my book." she smiled when she saw it in John's hands. She removed it from John's hand and took a pen from her pocket. She signed it. **"To Sherlock from Irene." **

"Is it you that's sending him the text messages?"

"Me? Oh. I didn't know I was sending him text messages. Take care of him."

She left without saying another word and John dragged Sherlock upstairs.

TBC


	4. Christmas and Autopsies

As it approached Christmas Sherlock still continued to receive text messages from Irene Adler. The very fact that Adler was sending messages to Sherlock and that she knew Sherlock was not going to reply to made John wonder if the author was lonely. John had never seen Sherlock not reply to anybody before. To John Sherlock was mister punchline and he would always outlive God having the last word, but with her she was different.

It was then nineteenth of December and John began to type up his latest blog entry. A few days before they'd solved a case together. John decided to call the new blog entry, "The Six Thatchers." He made clear very much so that Sherlock was still getting text messages from Irene Adler. He didn't care if the woman had denied it when he asked.

When he'd finished he posted it and turned to Sherlock who was sitting on his armchair reading another one of Irene's books. He didn't know what one it was in the series. Sherlock refused to let John borrow the books.

John thought for a moment on how to break the silence. "Emm, Sherlock have you heard what Irene Adler is doing for Christmas?"

"Why would I have heard?" asked Sherlock.

"No reason. She texts you a lot. Umm. What exactly does she...umm...what exactly does she say to you?"

"A lot of things that I imagine you would not understand." Sherlock replied before his eyes suddenly got to a certain part in the book. "Oh that is interesting Miss Adler. Very interesting indeed!"

John tilted his head a little as he thought. "How many texts have you had from her now?"

"Should I be counting?"

"Your phone counts them."

"Good for it. I'm trying to read John do not disturb me. This requires my full concentration."

* * *

Sherlock's full concentration on what was Irene Adler's sixth book, moved onto her seventh book: "The Diamond Knife.", just in time for Christmas day. The only time he took his attention away from it was to play a Christmas tune on his violin for Mrs Hudson. When he was done he bowed and sat back down to read. Lestrade was in the kitchen helping himself to something to drink, Mrs Hudson was sitting on one of the armchairs, John's girlfriend Jeanette was putting some cakes and other Christmas foods on a tray to serve everyone and John was everywhere, talking to everyone wearing a happy smile, and a homemade Christmas jumper which Sherlock thought ridiculous.

As it was Christmas he did try to act a little more cheerful. Just as he went to resume his reading Molly came in. Everyone began saying hello to one another. Sherlock of course had to mock. "Everyone saying hello to each other how wonderful." he said to himself.

When Molly took her coat off Lestrade's mouth dropped open as he looked at her in her Christmas dress. When Molly turned around he handed her a drink, and pretended that nothing happened.

"I wasn't expecting to see you." stated Molly. "I thought you were in Dorset for Christmas."

"First thing in the morning, me and the wife back together." replied Lestrade.

Sherlock looked up slightly from the book. "No, she's sleeping with a PE teacher." he announced inconsiderately.

Then Sherlock's eyes caught something in the last page of the book about the main character Adele's new partner who would be helping Adele with the case and he swallowed but continued reading. When he'd finished the whole book he realised that there was more pages and they felt more like photographic paper. He looked and realised they were photos of Irene. It was a photo of her and an all too familiar face, Godfrey Norton. There was a caption. "_To Godfrey my wonderful fiancee. Thank you for helping me through the stress of trying to get this book right." _

It all began to make sense to Sherlock now and he stood up ready to speak to Mycroft. But he couldn't helpt but notice Molly's presents in the bag and the one that was wrapped far neater than the rest.

"I see you've a new boyfriend Molly. You're serious about him."

"Sorry what?" asked Molly.

"You're seeing him tonight and giving him a gift."

"Take a day off." spoke John with a warning tone that Sherlock failed to notice.

"Surely you see the perfectly wrapped present in the bag, The others are slapdash. It's for someone special. The shade of red echoes her lipstick ... an unconscious association or one she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind. That she's serious about him is clear from the fact that she is giving him a gift. It suggest long term hopes. That she's seeing him tonight is evident from her makeup and clothes. Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and her legs.

Sherlock checked the name tag on the gift and saw it was for him.

Molly was almost on the verge of tears. "You always say such horrible things. Always. Always."

"I am sorry. Forgive me." he said, making John's eyes widen. He kissed Molly's cheek. "Merry Christmas Molly Hooper."

Suddenly Sherlock got a text. "Again?" asked John. "You should have invited her round."

Sherlock looked at it. **"Mantelpiece. Goodbye Mr Holmes and Merry Christmas. xx" **

Sherlock blinked and walked to the mantelpiece to find a box. He took it upstairs away from everyone and opened it. It was Irene's cameraphone.

"_Now if you could give me back that phone. It's my life and I would die before I let you take it. It's how I am protecting myself."_

Sherlock swallowed, before phoning Mycroft. He ignored his brother's remark on the other end. "Irene Adler. You're going to find her dead tonight."

When Sherlock looked round he saw John. He walked up and closed the door on him.

* * *

It was a few hours later when Sherlock was called in to Saint Barts' Morgue by Mycroft. He identified the body for Molly who had kindly came in during her time off for him. On his way back to Baker Street he remained despondent. He felt a great weight on his chest, that he'd never felt before.

He guessed that John would search his room for drugs and cigarettes so, when he went in he made it perfectly clear to John. "I hope you didn't ruin my sock index this time."

He walked upstairs and sat down on the edge of the bed as he held onto the cameraphone. He looked at the keypad and wondered if he should enter the code or not. He'd worked it out after reading her last book in the series. But, it seemed worthless now that she was dead and he was definitely not going to be handing it over to Mycroft. Not after what he knew. The one person he wanted to show off to this time, was not John, not a client but Miss Irene Adler."

* * *

The next morning, Sherlock found out that Jeanette and John had broken up. Deep down Sherlock felt guilty because he could tell it was his fault.

He was feeling severely depressed and he walked to the window with his violin and began to compose. Mrs Hudson commented on the sadness of the tune but Sherlock didn't speak and it continued on for a couple of days until Sherlock decided that he was not going to believe that Irene was dead and then he remembered what Adele said to her partner in Adler's book. _"I was in London once and the city was so magnificent, and I was deeply in love with every building. My favourite was of course Canary Wharf. Cabot Square."_

Sherlock got dressed and went to leave Baker Street. "Where are you going?" asked John on his way out.

"Out."

"I'll come with you." spoke John.

"No." replied Sherlock. "Don't."

John blinked, taken aback.

"OK." nodded John.

* * *

"Jim Moriarty has been in touch." spoke Anthea, Mycroft's PA, as he made her way into Mycroft's office.. "He said that Irene Adler is in Canary Wharf."

* * *

Ten Minutes Later

Irene was indeed in Canary Wharf. She was wearing a hat to conceal her hair and shades to hide her eyes. As she began walking she heard her phone beep. **"Cabot Square. SH." **

She widened her eyes. _"How? That man is wonderful!"_

She began making her way to Cabot Square when suddenly several black vans pulled up on all sides of her path. Men with guns made their way out of the vehicles. "Hands in the air Miss Adler! You look very healthy for a dead woman!"

She jumped onto the roof of a van and jumped into the water but her escape wasn't completely successfully. She'd gained a flesh wound as a bullet scraped her side. The blood poured into the water as she began to swim."

When she got out she began to run but it was painful. She fell over but someone caught her before she fell. "It's not Cabot Square but it will do. Miss Irene Adler. I am sure John will get that wound just right. Now when I say run. Run!"

TBC

* * *

A/N I know that bit with Molly I changed the remark about the size of her breasts to legs. The reason being Sherlock never noticed anything to do with the latter body part until he saw Irene Adler naked in the first part of episode and since he 'liked' her, he had an idea of what would be the perfect...I am not going to continue that you'll get the idea. emm. Irene's legs were the only bare thing in my version and Sherlock saw how slim they were and her 'height' she was sitting down.

So. Yeah. I know some things are similar and others are not the least bit alike to the original.


	5. SHERLOCKED

John tended to Irene's wound and left her to sleep in Sherlock's bed, before heading downstairs to the living room. He just saw Sherlock jumping into the armchair in no more as the detective tried to hide the fact he'd been pacing up and down. John sat down on the armchair across from Sherlock and they sat in silence for a moment. John knew that Sherlock was eager to know if Irene was alright, but knew he was too proud to ask. Because asking meant admitting he cared but John wasn't going to answer Sherlock's unasked question. He wanted Sherlock to ask him first. He'd never seen Sherlock care so much before, and he just wanted that one piece of evidence that the man in front of him was human.

"I imagine Miss Adler has helped herself to some form of clothing from my wardrobe." Sherlock spoke eventually. It wasn't what John had wanted Sherlock to ask first but it broke the somewhat awkward silence in the room and it proved to John Sherlock's thoughts were on Adler.

John smiled, trying not snicker. "Yes. She nicked your dressing gown."

"Will she be alright?" Sherlock asked.

"She's not dead."

"Yes I do realise that." replied Sherlock.

"How are you feeling about that?"

Sherlock stood up and took Irene's cameraphone from the mantelpiece. "I'm going to Barts. I need to check what other security measures she's taken out. Clever mind like that, would not just use a passcode."

When Sherlock had gone John went upstairs to sleep. Unlike Sherlock he couldn't cope for days on end without it.

* * *

Mycroft sat at his desk as he thought about the ongoing situation with Irene Adler. She'd escaped their custody once more, and Mycroft had no idea where she'd vanished to now. If they did not find her soon they would not know the code to stop a missile launch.

He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath.

* * *

Sherlock came into Baker Street at six in the morning and walked upstairs to the living room. "John!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "John!"

John was not happy with being awaken from his slumber in such a manner and he ran downstairs "What?"

"Oh good you are awake." smiled Sherlock. "Make some tea for Miss Adler and I. Perhaps something for yourself. Oh wait Miss Adler is American she'll prefer coffee."

"Oh I like a good cup of tea." they heard a female voice speak. Sherlock and John looked to see Irene. She was quite pale, and still tired looking but she was far better than she was when Sherlock had brought her back. She could stand much more tall now. Sherlock went to speak but couldn't.

"You suit his dressing gown more than he does." complimented John.

Irene smiled.

"You're awake early." spoke Sherlock.

"Wasn't it your intention to have me awake at this time when you shouted so loudly, and when you so rudely asked your friend to make tea or coffee?"

John smiled as Sherlock struggled to find an answer to her question. "Do sit down." he said eventually.

"Where shall I?"

"Wherever you see fit." replied Sherlock.

Irene sat on the armchair, that Sherlock often frequented. "Except..." began John, knowing how attached Sherlock was to that chair.

"This is where you sit isn't it?" Sherlock asked Irene.

"Not right now." replied Sherlock as he sat across from her on John's chair. "So Miss Adler when did you get engaged to Norton?"

"Here you go." interrupted John handing her a cup of tea.

"Thank you Dr Watson."

"How did they find you so quickly last night is what I want to know."

"I too Mr Holmes."

He began to stare at her as she stared at him. "Ring on the right finger and not on the left finger." Sherlock said quickly.

Irene swallowed. "You've finished every book in my series." she deduced.

"Sleeping tablet box you showed me had your name on the box. It was to you. You were stressed because of Norton's job. You couldn't sleep."

Irene folded her arms.

"Sherlock, stop." spoke John.

"You swallowed when that CIA agent mentioned him. How else would you have got the photos? Or the information that the governments are wanting. It wasn't you that killed his partner it was him. The whole time you were dealing with a broken heart because you went through all the stress of being engaged to a CIA agent and he cheated on you with...Who?"

"Some things must remain secret Mr Holmes."

"Not between friends."

Irene smiled. She moved over to Sherlock and kneeled to him before whispering in his ear. John quickly removed his phone and photographed it. _"That's going on the blog." the Dr thought. _

"You are kidding me Miss Adler!" laughed Sherlock.

She stood up and walked back to the chair. "I do not lie. Well at least not unless I have something to gain."

"Oh understandable." Sherlock agreed. "So you met Norton, things went fine but he was gone a lot, and you were also most likely in danger all the time. You began to realise that perhaps your engagement to him was a bad idea and you moved it to your right hand. Shortly after that you found out he'd been having an affair. Most likely when that young female person was trying to escape the attention of the media."

Sherlock suddenly began laughing.

"We can laugh about it now it was pretty horrible for me."

Sherlock stopped laughing. "So what was it text? Email? What? What led you to find out about the affair."

"A letter. The hallmark. The paper. Found Norton's partner dead when I came home a few hours later from being at a book signing. So I hacked into his laptop and I didn't even know what I was doing but I found more than the photos. Missile plans, times of missile launches, and an email from someone who knew Jim Moriarty with encryption. I de-encrypted it but would not tell him what it was when he asked me and he knew I erased everything from Norton's computer entirely, so he was not getting information from Norton. He captured me but I got away. I would never have taken those files if Norton had not killed his partner and perhaps if he had not worked with Moriarty. It would all be blamed on me. Norton was the big cheese in the CIA."

"That was what Moriarty's phone call. Well thank you for being slippery."

"Your welcome."

"Saved my life it did."

"Your welcome."

"But let's get moving on. So the CIA thought that you killed Norton's partner. Are we just going to keep calling him that?"

"His name was Arnold Price."

"I see." nodded Sherock. "Arnold Price was killed then you went and hacked Norton's laptop."

"Yes."

"You found out more than you should have."

"Yes."

"That even the two governments, did not know about?"

"Yes."

"Which they really need to know about."

"Yes."

"You're making them desperate aren't you?"

"Yes."

"What do you want?"

"My life back. Nothing else. To be free to be me."

"What if they were to find out the code to your cameraphone?"

"I won't tell them."

"What if I tell you it? What will you do?"

"I'd congratulate you and then I would wait on you brother coming to kill me because my protection would have gone."

"Who says that if I knew the code I'd tell my brother?"

John's eyes widened and he dropped down into the couch.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because he's wrong and stupid and so am I!"

John's eyes widened further and Irene looked up. "How could you know that though? The code."

"I read your last book. Adele looked up to Detective Mock-Seller and immediately he locked her heart as he he looked at her with cold but wonderful and enviable pale blue eyes that were analysing everything about her within a mere matter of a mere split second and it turned what could be the most simplest, uninteresting, most irrelevant thing in the entire world into the most important clue of a puzzle. She was that puzzle. With his great logical thinking he made cold deductions that are so very true and straight forward and honest. But because of his brutality of his honesty, Adle could not help but feel angry that he left her so naked with one single glance. She could tell after his deduction about her that he left people so vulnerable yet he himself was the most vulnerable man she'd ever met. That was why she immediately fell in love with him. He was not so different from herself."

"I think you've said quite enough Mr Holmes."

"Detective Sam Mock-Seller. Interesting. Adele Enri. Interesting. How many people had you heard about me from? How many stories, and photos did it take?"

"So I based his character on you and Adele on me? What does it matter? It's all just a game."

"The game I sympathise. The crave to find enjoyment when those around you are so boring and don't understand. But sentiment. It's a chemical defect."

"Sherlock!" scolded John.

"Quiet. I am in the middle of something."

"Please let him continue it's his big moment where Sherlock Holmes shows off! Acts brilliant and belittles those around him. Sentiment however Mr Holmes is something that I've not felt since Norton did what he did."

Sherlock stood up and removed the camera phone from his suit jacket pocket. "You said to me once that disguise was a self portrait. How true. The keycode to your safe, was the height of your legs alone. Intimate. But this is far more intimate. This is cameraphone is basically your heart, because everything piece of broken promise, broken love, broke emotion or broken anything was the reason you stored everything on this phone. This is your heart Miss Adler and you must never ever let it rule your head!"

Sherlock typed the code and Irene closed her eyes. He handed her the phone and whispered in her ear. She would not look down at the phone which now said "I AM SHERLOCKED" .

John sat staring from the sofa as a tear ran down her cheek. Sherlock handed her a handkerchief from his suit jacket pocket and she thanked him. "I am sorry." he apologised to her.

"Two apologies from the great Sherlock Holmes. I should be either so lucky or so unfortunate. I can not decide."

"Both." John butted in.

Irene stood up and walked past Sherlock. "Thank you once again."

"No Miss Adler thank you." replied Sherlock.

When Irene had gone upstairs John looked to Sherlock. "Emm. Why did you thank her?"

"Because she's giving me the chance to get right up my brother's nose. John why don't you go out for a while. Take Mrs Hudson with you just incase."

"Oh. I see what you mean." nodded John.

"Yeah." replied Sherlock.

"Well OK then."

"Good."

Sherlock sat back down on his own chair. "What was the passcode?"

"None of your concern John." Sherlock replied. "It's between Miss Adler and I."

"OK."

John left and Sherlock closed his eyes as he thought.

TBC

* * *

A/N What are those two great minds planning now?


	6. The Woman

Irene sat as she put a note and autograph in all her books that Sherlock had bought. She was about to sign the seventh book but Sherlock spoke up, and stopped her. "In your author note could you put from The Woman instead?"

They locked eyes for a moment as Sherlock sat and stared at her and she stared back to him. Silence filled the room, even more than it had done when Irene was signing the books. "Of course Mr Holmes." she finally managed to say. She signed and put the note before handing the book to Sherlock. "Shouldn't we go now to see your brother?"

"Oh no wait until he's desperate for that code. Like an hour before the launch."

"But people's lives are at stake."

"Trust me Miss Adler I know my brother."

"I'm hungry we should have lunch." she spoke kneeling down and putting her hands over his. Sherlock swallowed.

"How could we get lunch if you're running away from everybody?"

"Oh but wouldn't it annoy your brother more if you were in my company?"

"Yes but I still have to decline." he replied, struggling to speak a little.

"Dinner? Tomorrow night once we've made your brother mentally deranged?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You might be then."

"That we will never know." Sherlock replied.

"If tommorow night was the last night on this earth, would you have dinner with me and me alone Mr Holmes?" Irene asked Sherlock as she brought herself even closer to him. He could smell his own shower gel in her hair. Sherlock's chest tightened, as she stared more intently into his eyes. He was sure he could not look away anymore.

"But tomorrow night is not going to be the last night on earth.." Sherlock finally said quickly..

"How do you know that? It probably will if Mycroft does not let me go." she replied.

Sherlock smiled. "You have to overanalyze everything. Hidden premises. Conclusions. People."

"We're the same you and I. Only I am far less brutal and open."

"You try and restrain every thought because you're frightened what people will think of you if you really were to but at times you've been tempted."

"What brought you to that conclusion?"

"You deal with publishers and you've dined with my ex-clients."

Irene stood up and walked to the kitchen. "May I pour you some tea?"

"Thank you. I take..." Sherlock began to reply.

"I know I saw what Dr Watson put in yours early this morning." she replied with a wink.

"Why did you stay in London when you were dead or rather not dead?"

"I wasn't going to far from my camera phone. I went to Canary Wharf for a while, got a text from you and I almost got killed."

"But I saved your life."

"Yes you did." she replied drawing him a look. "I would do the same for you. After all as you said last night we're friends."

"You make it sound like nursery."

Irene laughed and handed him his tea. "What will you do when you get back to America? Write another book."

"I'll make up something completely different. New book series. This time I'll make it more dangerous."

"Keep the analysis."

"Oh of course it's what my novels are all about Mr Holmes. Can you keep your funny hat?"

" is worrying me is the fact Moriarty seems to be after you."

"I'll send him an email. Sort it out a bit."

"How?" asked Sherlock.

"I as a woman do not have the brains to decrypt it or so he seems to think therefore I could not possibly make up one similar with wrong information and therefore it must be the source of the information that is the problem, therefore the one who gave it to Norton."

"Oh you're good!"

"You're not so bad." she replied.

Sherlock's mobile rang and he sighed before answering it. "Mycroft...I thought Miss Adler was dead?...Well yes I was in Canary Wharf...I just had an epiphany that she was there but she didn't turn up where I thought she was...No...Mycroft I don't lie to you I tell you what I think and don't really care about what you do. Good day!"

Irene sighed and stood up. "I am not feeling so well I think I will lie down for a while."

Sherlock nodded and Irene walked upstairs.

* * *

18:30 The Next Day

Mycroft sat at his large dining table at home completely unsure of what to do. One woman had brought the country to its knees indeed and there was nothing he could do to stop the upcoming missile launch. That was his main concern whatever else was on her cameraphone was an added bonus.

"Mr Holmes." a voice spoke. A female voice.

Mycroft looked up and saw Irene Adler wearing clothes he'd normally seen worn by his brother. "Miss Adler."

"It's time to do business Mr Holmes." she told him before sitting at the bottom end up the table. She slid her phone down the table and Mycroft picked it up. "We have people who can get into this."

"They could try but what about the four additional units wired inside the casing of my phone that most likely either contain acid or small explosive devices. I won't tell you exactly, I'll let you find out for yourself. If you try and open it you'll burn the hard drive. Now isn't that explosive?"

"Some data is always recoverable."

"Take that risk if you like."

"You have a passcode to open this I see. I deeply regret to say, we have people who can extract it from you."

"I have lived for months now in torture as a wanted woman with no access to my bank, couldn't go home, and all the time you wouldn't listen to anything I have had to say what makes you think that I'll tell you it then?"

"People can only cope with a small amount of pain."

Irene laughed. "OK. How about something more on your level. There are two passcodes. One to open the phone, one to burn the under duress, you can't know what one I gave you and there would be no point in another attempt."

Mycroft went to speak but Irene interrupted. "Oh and don't go for the whole we'll destroy this and no one has the information routine because we both know you really need it to stop the launch in two hours. I want very little in return. You get the CIA off my back and your government. I would like you to unfreeze my bank account and just in case the CIA or maybe even MI5 or MI6 were to show up at my door and rough me up a bit I would like top of the range health care to get treated."

"You've been very thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you."

"But then there wouldn't be any need for me being here because if you didn't employ half wits then there wouldn't be any information leaked at all on your security." remarked Irene.

"What would happen if I were to go back on my deal in a few months time. Where is your protection then? What would I have to deal with?" asked Mycroft.

"You'd deal with me!" a familiar detective's voice spoke.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?"

"Oh Miss Adler hasn't been to this area before and I wanted her to find you right on time. Might I suggest you also get Miss Adler a plane ticket home, preferably one that has no terrorists on it."

Mycroft was about to speak. "Now off you pop and talk to people." Irene quipped with a finger wave.

Mycroft stood up. "You did kill a CIA agent I hardly think it will excuse you."

"Check who the email was really addressed to and see for yourself whether or not I actually did. Oh and Mr Holmes, pick up a book."

* * *

Three hours later

Irene and Sherlock were having chinese in Baker Street. It was Irene's only way to get Sherlock to have dinner with her.

"What will you do now?" Sherlock asked.

Irene stood up "Go home and same old same old. I'll probably end up moving. Thank you for dinner."

She picked up her suitcase. "The taxi should be here shortly." she smiled. "I meant what I said by the way. If you were in my position or even something similar then I would have...I will help you. I owe you my life Mr Holmes. Thank you."

He stood up and shook her hand. "No Miss Adler thank you."

She kissed his cheek and left.

* * *

1st January 2012 00:01

"How are we feeling?" John asked Sherlock who had been in a somewhat silent mood since Irene had left.

"Fine." he smiled as he began to play Auld Lang Syne on his violin. "Happy New Year John."

When he'd finished playing his phone alert went off and John looked over. "She texted you?"

"So it would seem." replied Sherlock. **"It's not New Year for me yet, but a Happy New Year to you Mr Holmes. xx."**

"**Happy New Year Miss Adler. SH." **he replied.

When John had gone to bed Sherlock picked up Irene's final book of her series and looked at the author note. He'd not read it once she'd written it. **"To the world's greatest detective and the world's only consulting detective Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. The Woman." **

He closed it over and put that book separate from the others as he put it in his desk drawer. "The Woman!" he said aloud.

**THE END**

* * *

_A/N To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex._

I thought that fitted in well in the author note. Big Thanks to the usual people you know who you are but I'll list you all anyway at the end. Thanks to those people who put it on alert, and those who favourited and those who did both and to just those who've put up with it. Thanks very much.

**Thanks to:**

SHBreeze

JaneEyre0

SanctuaryLover

clow-san

You were all kind to me in the review and I was touched by all of you.


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